Twelve Red Dust Envoys! The Martial Path! The Sacred Cult!

At this moment, Sword Forging Manor, Sky Fire Cave.

Scorching magma churned below, rumbling dully. The cave walls had been charred black by years of blazing heat, and only a fiery hollow at the center emitted a strange red glow.

It was precisely where the Divine Sword Embryo was taking shape!

A figure in a gray robe, his face concealed behind a mask, stood quietly at the edge of that fiery hollow.

Strange patterns of crimson threads were embroidered upon his robe, like countless tangled strands of mortal emotion.

At that moment, a shadow entered the cave.

"What unexpected change occurred?"

The Red Dust Envoy's voice was hollow and ethereal, like a mechanical puppet speaking, yet it carried a soul-stirring demonic power. His voice echoed through the cave.

"Red Dust Envoy, the Four Heroes of Demonic Rock outside have all perished, and Lord Ever-Changing Demon Lord has also died!"

The Red Dust Envoy slowly turned around.

The eyes beneath his mask looked at the Demon Guard. There was no anger in them, only an unfathomable calm.

"Who did it?"

"Little True Martial Zhang Chu," the Demon Guard said.

"Little True Martial Zhang Chu..." The Red Dust Envoy repeated the name, and ripples appeared in his eyes for the first time.

"Tell me."

"Yes." The Demon Guard continued respectfully:

"This man comes from Linjiang. He practices Daoist Sect martial arts, and his inner force follows the Yellow Court lineage, yet it is utterly unlike any of the schools we know—far more vast and majestic."

"Yet just a year ago, he was utterly obscure. Now he has appeared in the Jianghu with great fanfare, possessing formidable strength as though it had materialized out of thin air."

The Demon Guard had clearly investigated Zhang Chu long ago.

"Materialized out of thin air? Interesting..." The Red Dust Envoy gently raised a hand, his fingertips cutting through the air and drawing several nearly invisible crimson threads behind them.

Those threads trembled faintly, as though they were alive.

"Yes. Any one of this man's martial arts would require ten or twenty years of bitter cultivation to reach his level, yet Zhang Chu is only eighteen. By all reason, it makes no sense."

The Red Dust Envoy smiled.

His laughter was soft, yet it made the entire cavern tremble. Broken stones showered down from the surrounding rock walls.

They struck the magma and sent sparks bursting upward.

"The Jianghu is vast; beyond the strong are those still stronger. Even I have merely glimpsed the threshold of the martial path."

"Things like reason may only be used to describe ordinary people. How can they be used to measure geniuses?"

"Must the Sacred Cult alone be allowed to produce masters in abundance, while the Jianghu may not give birth to exceptional talents? You are too arrogant."

The Demon Guard did not dare raise his head, nor did he dare speak.

Myriad sorrows, bitter resentments, parting griefs—the countless auras of mortal emotion spread into every corner around him.

An indescribable "emotion" stirred in waves, making him desperately want to weep, yet leaving him unable to say for whom he would cry.

"The sword embryo still needs a quarter hour before it fully emerges. Since they have come, let us go out... and meet them."

"Yes." The Demon Guard bowed.

The Red Dust Envoy stepped forward. The crimson threads on his robe seemed to come alive, glimmering with an eerie light.

The Demon Guard followed closely behind. Their group gradually vanished into the tunnel leading out of Sky Fire Cave.

Outside Sky Fire Cave, the scene was already a complete mess.

The blood scattered from the Four Heroes of Demonic Rock and the Ever-Changing Demon Lord, whom Zhang Chu had shattered with a single palm strike, had stained the stone slabs red.

Zhang Chu stood with his hands behind his back.

His azure robes were immaculate, his face handsome, but his eyes were cold as ice, their sharp edge fully revealed.

Dragon Diagram Fist Saint, Hundred Flowers Sword Sun Jingyi, and the others—including the old manor lord Deng Wuzong, Lingnan Circuit Commander Tu Xiong, and the assembled heroes of the realm—all wore grave expressions.

The sight of Zhang Chu killing the Ever-Changing Demon Lord moments ago.

Had shaken every one of them to the core.

This young man's strength was simply too terrifying, far beyond what the title "Little True Martial" could encompass.

"Daoist Priest Zhang, your martial arts are indeed unmatched! This old man thanks you, on behalf of Sword Forging Manor, for Young Hero's aid!"

Deng Wuzong clasped his fists despite his heavily injured body.

"You are too courteous, Old Manor Lord." Zhang Chu returned the gesture. "Vanquishing demons and defending the Dao is the duty of our generation."

As he spoke, he suddenly turned to look toward Sky Fire Cave!

"Hm? This aura carries a temptation that makes one sink into it. There was actually a big fish that hadn't left?"

Zhang Chu watched the figure racing toward them in surprise. It was this aura! More than several times stronger than the Ever-Changing Demon Lord's. He had not expected someone from the Demonic Cult to remain behind.

Deng Wuzong and the others noticed it as well!

They all revealed wary expressions.

Just then, a red figure emerged from the direction of Sky Fire Cave. The Red Dust Envoy stepped forth.

The scarlet mask glowed eerily, and the cold, sinister aura made everyone's hearts sink!

Hundred Flowers Sword Sun Jingyi's expression changed slightly, and she instinctively tightened her grip around her sword hilt. Dragon Diagram Fist Saint cautiously stepped back, clenching both fists until his knuckles crackled like bursting beans. Lei Potian directly drew his blade, its light flashing beneath the sun.

The next instant, Tu Xiong cried out in alarm.

"A scarlet mask, ten thousand threads wrapped around the body! This is one of the Twelve Red Dust Envoys beneath the Dao Master of Emotion of the Demonic Cult!"

As soon as those words fell, the entire gathering erupted.

The expressions of the assembled heroes changed, and even the air seemed to grow heavier, their eyes filled with wariness.

"One of the Twelve Red Dust Envoys?" Zhang Chu raised a brow. He had clearly never heard this strange title before.

Deng Wuzong lowered his voice, his tone grave. "Daoist Priest Zhang, you may not know this: the Demonic Cult has eight Dao Masters, each one once an unrivaled powerhouse with towering influence."

"And this Dao Master of Emotion is the strangest among the eight. Beneath him are twelve Red Dust Envoys, each practicing sinister arts that are unfathomably bizarre. In the Jianghu, those who encounter a Red Dust Envoy rarely survive!"

Tu Xiong nodded and added, "It is said that these Red Dust Envoys all cultivate the Dao Master of Emotion's sinister arts. They can stir the seven emotions and six desires within people's hearts. Their methods seem not of this mortal world, and their strength is unfathomable. They must never be underestimated!"

Zhang Chu understood upon hearing this. So the other party was a major figure of the Demonic Cult. No wonder his aura was so impressive.

The Red Dust Envoy's gaze also fell upon Zhang Chu.

With a trace of approval in his voice, he said, "I have heard of you, Little True Martial Zhang Chu. At such a young age, you have already attained this level of cultivation. You truly are a talent."

Zhang Chu's expression did not change. "You flatter me."

"Why not join the Sacred Cult, then, with such talent?"

The Red Dust Envoy's voice suddenly carried a trace of temptation. "With your gifts, you will surely accomplish great things within the Sacred Cult and be granted supreme divine arts. Why struggle in this Sea of Suffering of the mortal world, enduring the Imperial Court's commands?"

Those words seemed to carry some kind of magic.

The gazes of everyone present grew hazy, and a thought actually arose within their hearts: He is right.

"Impressive methods." Zhang Chu looked at the Red Dust Envoy.

The other man's technique appeared nonaggressive, yet it faintly carried the power to distort the mind.

"So the great undertaking you seek is to ravage the people, throw the world into chaos, and set yourselves up as emperors?"

The Red Dust Envoy gently shook his head.

"Young friend, your vision is still too narrow. The ten great bandits of the Northern Region, the tribes of the Southern Border, the Ten-Thousand Horse Sand Bandit Group of the Western Regions, and the islands of the East Sea are all stirring restlessly. Undercurrents have long surged beneath the world's order. None of this is the Sacred Cult's doing."

"If the Sacred Cult's goal were merely to overthrow the Imperial Court, why would we go to such lengths?"

Zhang Chu asked with interest, "Oh? Then what exactly is this great undertaking you speak of?"

The Red Dust Envoy calmly uttered three words.

"The path is broken."